Again and Again

  

          It’s happened again.

            And again and again.

            I think it’s called confusion. Or not paying attention. Or perhaps just plain old getting older.

            Once again, I confused the tube of toothpaste and the tube of Preparation H. No, I won’t admit which way this happened.

            The frequency of such situations is increasing.  I walk around the house looking for my keys, only to realize after a frantic search that they are in my hand. 

            This happens with my glasses as well.  I move papers, books, pots, pans, towels sheets and more, then find the glasses on top of my head or in a pocket. 

            And the cell phone?  Oh, my goodness.  I believe it has feet and just walks away to trick me.  We have a home phone, i.e. land line, primarily for use as a fax, but I believe it has been used more often as a locator when I have to call my cell phone just to find it.

            Oh, and then it gets worse.  Later, I look at the cell phone and see that I have a missed call.  I check for a missed call, just to find it was my own call from the home phone! 

            And, by the way, I can tell you this: toothpaste seems to have certain healing properties!

Giggling in Church

            Note: Some names have been changed – well, you’ll see why.

            Mom and Becky were down for part of the weekend.  As is typical of Mom, she started telling us stories from way-back-when.  This one is funny, if you can get the mental image from the story.

            It seems that, quite a few years ago, it was time for the church service to begin at St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, just off of Hwy. 378 west of Lexington. The choir was robed and waiting at the back of the sanctuary to process in during the first hymn.  Mom and Mary Lou were at the front of the double lines.  The organist was already playing the first hymn’s introduction.

            That’s when Mom and Mary Lou spotted Mr. Jacob Smith, sitting in his usual pew with “Miss Rose,” as she was affectionately called.  And that’s when Mom and Mary Lou got so tickled they couldn’t hold their giggles inside. 

            It seems that Mr. Jacob, like just about every other man back then, had worn his Sunday hat to church.  Mr. Jacob’s hat must have been an old one, because when Mr. Jacob got inside church and took his hat off, the felt lining had remained on his head, like a faded and flat crown covering his balding spot. 

            So, there Mr. Jacob sat, up near the front of the church, ready to stand and sing, with the felt lining still on his head. 

            And that’s why Mom and Mary Lou processed in that Sunday morning, giggling instead of singing.

~                                          ~                                              ~

Popcorn and Plans

            Ah, the best laid plans.

            Yep, you know the rest of that, don’t you?  It’s the saying that “the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” 

            Taken from a Robert Burns poem and a John Steinbeck novel, the saying, of course, means that, sometimes no matter how hard one plans, things just don’t work out according to those plans.

            Here’s my newest “best laid plans” story:

            Iris, a really good friend, and I like to get together to play Buzztime Trivia on Wednesday afternoons.  This particular trivia game is played throughout the US and Canada in restaurants, pubs and other such establishments. 

            Iris and I usually go a neighborhood family pub (O'Lacy's) late on Wednesdays and then The Duppster joins us after work to play a round or two of trivia.  Typically, we’re out of there by 6 pm or 6:30.

            Last week, the two grandsons were staying with us.  They are just-turned-four (Harrison) and 17 months (Fisher.)  I didn’t want to tell them we were going to a pub or anything like that. 

            Since this particular pub has free popcorn, I told Harrison and Fisher we were going to the “popcorn place” where we could eat popcorn and have fun.  They were excited! 

            Iris was in on this temporary-name-for-the-business scheme.  She got to the pub a few minutes before I arrived with the two grandsons, so she told the owner what was going on.  When the boys and I walked in, the owner said, “Welcome to the Popcorn Place.”

            As is normal for late Wednesday afternoons, there weren’t many people there.  We all had popcorn while Iris and I played trivia.  Everything was working out just right.

            As we were leaving around 6 pm, several other people were coming in.

            That’s when Harrison exclaimed, “Boy, this bar sure is filling up fast!”

            This bar?

            So much for the Popcorn Place.

              ~                     ~                      ~

More Headlines: Police, Bras & Miracle Cures

Well, I guess it didn't work on everybody, huh?

Really????

Boy, that must be the best listening of all times!

 

A pair, huh?

This had to be a big surprise to the organizers.

So glad to be a nobody, since everyone was arrested.

 

Part of why Johnny can't read????

Sex, Sewers, Lawyers & More!

More of these coming soon!

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Can't Blondes Have Fun -- AND Be Smart?

Some folks are so prejudiced against blondes. Have you noticed?  People make fun of blondes and act like blondes can’t be intelligent or even somewhat smart.
Society frowns on jokes showing prejudices – except when it comes to blondes. It’s not politically correct to tell stories and jokes about religion, sex, ethnicity, age or color, unless, of course, that color is blonde.

I’m here to defend blondes. I am blonde. Or at least I was the last time I saw my roots. Sure, the color is a very dirty, dishwater, almost brown-and-mostly-gray blonde, but it is a blonde of sorts.

Okay, so it's many sorts of blonde. There’s quite a variety of colors and shades in that mixture now.

But back to my original point. Why do so many people think blondes can’t be smart? There are blonde scientists, teachers, lawyers, engineers, authors, doctors, etc.

I’m blonde. I can read and write. I’ve got a law degree. I know how to use a computer. Except when the computer is malfunctioning.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not savvy enough to figure out how to fix any kind of problem if the computer is on the blink, and, recently, my computer was, in fact, on the blink. It totally blinked out.

The manufacturer sent a box for me to use to return the computer and said it might take up to two weeks to repair. Two weeks? I’m lost without a computer. How in the world would I survive for two weeks?

Nevertheless, I dropped off the computer at the designated shipping place and inside the designated shipping box.

Less than 48 hours later, it was there on our doorstep!

That’s because I had shipped it right back to myself!!!!

Now, why is it that some folks think blondes aren’t so smart?



Sherry at the computer!



Oh, Mrs. Littlejohn, Where Art Thou?

I just heard one of the news guys on TV talking about a weekend event. He reported that a photographer took “nude photographs of men and women.”

So, my question is this: Were the photographs nude or were the men and women nude?

In our high school, we had some excellent English teachers. (Actually, we had top-notch teachers in several areas.) One of the exceptional English teachers was Mrs. Iva Littlejohn, a legend at Lexington High School. She was also strict and she had high expectations for her students. 

I believe Mrs. Littlejohn would agree that the newscaster should have indicated there were photographs of nude men and women, not nude photographs.

Another example of questionable usage has to do with some of those classified ads in newspapers. They can get down-right disturbing.

There’s one that runs over and over and over. And it’s no wonder. They’re looking for “part-time people.”

Now, I know some folks who might not be playing with a full deck and who might seem somewhat out of it from time to time, but they’re still full-time people. Once a person, always a person.


Those folks doin’ the hirin’ might better find a way to use full-time people in those jobs ‘cause I imagine they are having a hard time finding part-time people.

If, of course, they’re looking for full-time people to fill part-time jobs, that’s a whole different story.



Oh, Mrs. Littlejohn, the world still needs you!

Clean Shoes????

Do you like clean shoes?

I’m talking about really clean shoes – and I know how to make old shoes really, really clean.

It happened like this: one day last week, just about everything seemed to be going wrong. Nothing major, but just every little aggravating thing.

For example, I was planning to bake a particular dessert and finally got started with it, only to learn half-way through the mixing process that I didn’t have one of the necessary ingredients. Of course, the others were already in the mixing bowl.

That night, I realized that I had not washed my clothes, including what I needed for the next day. I quickly went upstairs and grabbed the pile of dirty clothes, then tossed them in the washing machine.

Tired and sleepy, I waited until the clothes were washed, then tossed them in the dryer.

Since I absolutely don’t believe in using an iron, I always take clothes out of the dryer immediately to avoid wrinkling, even on those nights when I am struggling to stay awake and alert.

Imagine my surprise when I unloaded the dryer piece by piece and found one of my brown fabric high-heeled pumps.

Yes, it was clean. It was also somewhat misshapen.

And the insides were crinkly and a bit ruffled.

Yep, I’ve got the answer for getting clean shoes, but I have no idea how to make them wearable again.

.................................

I Just Heard It On The News

Yep, I just heard the following on the news:  “A car came up to him and started shooting.” 

Technology is amazing, isn't it?  They're manufacturing cars that can do all kinds of things!

You Know How I Am About Words!

Just returned from the grocery store.  Shared on Facebook this photo I took at the store but thought I'd also share it here on the blog. 

Just FYI:  I did NOT buy any of the advertised special!

~     ~     ~      ~     ~

Gr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-rr!!!! This Irritates Me!

In today's local paper, there was a book review.  Actually, there were several, but only one that bothered me.The review was of a book named "The Great Typo Hunt: Two Friends Changing the World, One Correction at a Time" and written by Jeff Deck and Benjamin D. Herson. 

Apparently, these two guys dislike typos - and other mistakes - as much as I do.  So, what irritated me?  It was the headline in the newspaper: "Author tries to correct nation's misstakes."  Uh, that should be "mistakes" instead of "misstakes."  How ironic that there was something wrong in the headline about this particular book.

 

WW: Why This Child May Not Get Into the School Preferred by His Parents

There's a good reason this child might not get into the school preferred by his parents.

This is a true story of a young mother I know. I won't tell you her name but suffice it to say that she is the mother of my only grandchild.

It seems that these parents were trying really hard to get their son into a little school at a nearby church; this desirable school has a very long waiting list.

The headmistress/director and this "young mother" were communicating by e-mail. The mother was told that the school will not accept anyone who is not potty-trained and was asked when the child would be 2 years old.

The young mother replied that his birthday is March 19th and that she was hoping he'd be potty-trained by then, but, she wrote, she certainly wished there were a camp to send him to for potty-training because she didn't know how in the world to tackle it.

At least that's what she meant to write. She sent the e-mail, then checked back to be sure she had included the birth date.

Oh, yes, she had, but here is what she had actually written instead of what she intended to say:
"I wish there were a camp to send him to for potty-training because I don't know how to tickle tits."

~                        ~                             ~                           ~

Wordless Wednesday participants are here.

Wordful Wednesday participants are here.

Yep! It's Ol' Murphy - Again!

                                                                                                                  
Okay. It’s a given. The proverbial Murphy’s Law strikes when it wants to. It struck last week.

I had a few items of clothing that needed to be washed. I was thinking it was a really small load but then remembered some items that had been hanging in the closet for a long time. They hadn’t been worn, either because of season, weather or my ever-changing weight. I tossed those things into the washing machine as well.

Using only cold water, I put all kinds of things into that load. Once all were washed, I moved the wet laundry to the dryer and hit “Start.”

When the dryer’s buzzer sounded, I hurried over to unload and then hang or fold clothes. (I will hurry to the dryer any day instead of taking time to iron clothes!)

And that’s when Murphy’s Law struck once again. Or at least that’s when I became aware of ol’ Murphy.

There had been a tube of lipstick in a jacket pocket – and now there was red lipstick on every single item of clothing. Not just most of the clothes but ALL of ‘em.

The lipstick is still there. I’ve found a few “how-to” tips for removing lipstick from clothes, although most have to do with finding a single lipstick smudge on one article of clothing before washing and, worse yet, drying the lipstick into the clothes.

One method is to put white toothpaste on each smudge, which would amount to a whole lot of toothpaste in this case. I haven’t tried it yet because the only toothpaste in the house is green gel.

Yep, it’s Murphy again. We’re getting to know each other rather well.

~                              ~                               ~

Signs of the Times, I Mean Places

Have you seen one of those little stickers on the back of a car?

No, not a political sticker. Not a crude sticker. This is one that typically has only two letters or perhaps three. The purpose is to let anyone looking know where the owner lives or vacations.  At least, I assume that's the purpose.

Probably the first ones I ever saw were “HHI” for Hilton Head Island. These small, oval-shaped car “badges” seem to be everywhere, touting large cities, small towns, beach resorts and whatever is between all of those. NYC for New York City, SF for San Francisco, MB for Myrtle Beach – you get the picture.

Recently, though, one of the little sticky signs gave me pause. I was behind a vehicle that had an “FB” sticker.

But as I looked at that, I thought, “Oh, wow, that person spends a lot of time on Facebook.”

Facebook? No, it really was for Folly Beach, SC, but when I saw the “FB” I immediately thought of Facebook.

Guess which person spends too much time on Facebook?

That’s right! It’s yours truly. I’m addicted. I’ll admit it. I am totally addicted to blogs, Facebook, Word Challenge and just the Internet in general.

There’s got to be a self-help group out there for those of us who don’t feel complete without the keyboard at our fingertips.

In the meantime, thank goodness Al Gore had the foresight to invent the Internet!

I Know I've Been Busy, But . . . . .

[With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy and his "You know you're a redneck if. . ." series.]

Some people get bored after the hectic holiday season.  There's a bit of a let-down for them.
I don't know what that's like.  Especially not this year. 
Yes, the holidays were busy, and they were enjoyable.
Now, though, I'm moving (have to be out of my place in two weeks and don't know where I'm going, but, hey! I've got two weeks!)  This, of course, means looking for a place, packing, tossing, donating, etc.
Monday is the start of six weeks of classes to review and prepare for the South Carolina bar exam, so I'll be in classes and studying like crazy, hoping to one day be a lawyer.   
And then there's all of the usual, time-consuming stuff.
So, this brings me to the first clue that I've been busy.
Last week, I had a sandwich for lunch.
When I went back into the kitchen after eating the sandwich, I saw what was supposed to be the inside of my sandwich (i.e. the "fixin's") on the counter. 
I had just eaten two pieces of bread with nothing inside - and didn't even know it!

PhotoHunt: Undesirable!

What a topic for this week's Photo Hunt!  Who in the world takes pictures of undesirable things, places and such? 

I was planning to skip participation this week - and then I looked through some of my existing photos on the computer.  It turns out that I take pictures of things undesirable.  Of course, being such an amateur photographer (actually just an amateur picture-taker; don't even qualify to call myself a photographer!) I've taken quite a few undesirable pictures of beautiful places and things.

I ordered some china in this beautiful pattern, and this is the way it arrived.  Quite undesirable.

By the way, I still have those pieces, so if anyone uses broken china for arts and crafts, you're welcome to all or some of the pieces.

The view under the kitchen sink used to be undesirable. 

Something was undesirable for Harrison on his first birthday.  Perhaps it was the hat.

And, yes, I know: being an "ex" everything, I could have posted my own picture.

And further, I resisted posting a photo of the "luv Guv" (Mark Sanford) - or any other politician for that matter.  There are some I find very undesirable.  :)


To see other undesirable photos, go here.


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Oops! I Said WHAT???

Yesterday, I was assisting minister at our church for both morning services. 

I'm a Lutheran and have been a Lutheran all of my life.  I've played the organ for services of other denominations and have found so many similarities.  Anyway, having been Lutheran all of my life, one would assume I could remember the service.

Yet, yesterday, when I was supposed to say something like this: "Together, let us use the Apostles' Creed to confess our faith" I said instead "Together, let us use the Apostles' Creed to confess our sins."

Someone told me later that mistake was because I'm much more involved in sins than in faith!!!

Oh, well. 

How Could You Miss Something SO Big????

Did you hear or read about the airline pilots who missed the Minneapolis airport by 150 miles? Just in case you haven’t, here’s an excerpt of the AP story:

Controllers on the ground, pilots of other planes, even a flight attendant back in the cabin tried to alert the crew as the Northwest airliner zoomed past Minneapolis at 37,000 feet. Worried about who was actually at the controls, officials asked the crew to prove who they were by executing turns after they finally were contacted….With no response from the two pilots Wednesday night, the plane flew 150 miles past its destination before turning back…

On the ground, police and FBI agents prepared for the worst, and the Air National Guard put fighter jets on alert at two locations as the drama unfolded…..the Airbus A320 was over Eau Claire, Wis., and the pilots had been out of communication with air traffic controllers for over an hour. They turned back and landed safely in Minneapolis, the plane's scheduled destination.

Commentators on TV and radio, talk show hosts, newspaper writers and others have made a big deal out of this. How in the world could pilots miss the airport by 150 miles???

What were those pilots doing? Were they asleep? Involved in a deep conversation? Arguing? What? After a couple of days, they said they “had been having a heated discussion about airline policy.”

Whatever they were doing seemed to defy belief. There was an air of incredulity in the news reports.

It seemed odd to me also, but, unfortunately, I also could identify with it – somewhat.

We were on a family trip to California years ago and were scheduled to compete on “Family Feud,” which we did twice, by the way. On this particular trip, we used one day to visit one of Mom’s co-workers, a friend in Marina del Ray. I was at the wheel of the rental car on the return trip from Marina del Ray back to Hollywood.

From the interstate, I totally missed Hollywood. I missed Los Angeles. I missed all of those exits. I remembered seeing a sign for Burbank, but didn’t think that’s where we were supposed to go. All of a sudden we were seeing signs for places far north of Los Angeles. How could this be? How could one just pass by Los Angeles?

How does one miss a city the size of Los Angeles? I don’t know. I wasn’t napping at the wheel. But I was arguing. And I was being stubborn. (This is the first time I have admitted that!)

Maybe because the city is SO large, there were no exits marked simply “Los Angeles” or “Hollywood.” Perhaps they all just had names of streets and of small communities – names I wouldn’t have recognized.

Yes, the pilots who missed Minneapolis are professionals; I was just a regular driver. Just the same, I understand that sometimes you just don’t see the big things right in front of you!